


Apartment Greenhouses

by luciole_etoile



Category: Undertale
Genre: Aesthetics(TM), Artistic OC, Dreams and Nightmares, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Nerdiness, Old Cat Lady, Old Plant Lady, Racism, Social Anxiety, Social Justice, Somewhat Female, apartment dweller, cat lover oc, introvert oc, probably, sleepy oc, societal problems, writes fanfiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-11-01 06:37:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10916352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luciole_etoile/pseuds/luciole_etoile
Summary: You are a somewhat female person. You prefer 'they' or 'her'. You say you're a demi-girl, because of your history. You were born and raised into an Asian family which wanted their grandchildren from you, a young child with no sense of logic whatsoever.Your eyesight is lacking. People call you blind, though you can still see shapes and color.You live alone in a completely empty apartment building, barren of life aside from the numerous plants you have covered it in the top to bottom with and the cats that wander about the place-- plus you.Your rice cooker is sometimes used to make eggs for breakfast. You don't like stoves.Your pantry consists mainly of instant food. You eat take-out and candy just about everyday. Luckily, your savings are off the charts, so it's okay-- but you still refuse to waste money on buying things when you're not going to cook them.You totally know how to cook. You can make pasta.(That's your one, true, only redeemable quality. Aside from easy obedience.)





	1. welcome to the greenhouse/whose cat is that

It’s eleven o’clock at night, and the sky shimmers as a blanket of stars stretches across it. The apartment is dark, your plants casting odd shapes from the moonlight onto your wood floorboards. You had found yourself buying and growing all sorts of odd plants in your home as soon as you had moved in. Now, it looks like an indoors greenhouse. You hadn't meant for it too, it just sort of slowly… got out of hand.

Well, your family had a knack for greens.

At least the place looks aesthetic. And by aesthetic, you mean covered in plant life, almost fairytale-like, with natural light filtering in from those skylights you had put in. Top floor privileges. Heh. It’s always a nice sight in the daytime. Unfortunately, your windows are huge, because you want your plants to get equal amounts of sunlight. You’ve opened the windows from time to time, and an entire flock of birds were hopping around the top floor. Now, you’re pretty sure the windowsills aren't supposed to be that big. But window seats are kinda your thing. And sleeping or taking naps in the warm sunlight is always nice. You made sure the window seats were completely cushioned.

There are pillows too. Lots of pillows.

…

God, you are so lucky you're the owner of this apartment building. You're not sure how you would have gotten all of this done without your favor bank. So many friends. You’re half sure a bunch of people have been leaving voicemails on that joke account or phone number you made. Some pranks about wanting to live here or something. Nah, man. You're not about to have people live with you. No way. This entire building is your safe place. Literally, the only place where you can roam around freely without feeling uncomfortable.

The original apartment manager person had been an old friend of yours, and although you can't be certain if they had any friends other than just you, they recently decided to just suddenly give the entire establishment to you. So far, you’ve sort of renovated the place. It’s your cafe, home, workplace, and studio all at the same time. You literally live here and work here. All you do is walk around.

…

Good god, your neighbors must think you’re some selfish and ugly rich person. Like the beast from that one French fairytale, Beauty and the Beast. You sort of are, (rich, not ugly! Okay, maybe a little.) but only because you’ve been obsessively saving money up ever since you were a kid. Being near the millions isn’t much, right? There are a lot of billionaires out there… Plus, you donate to charity and stuff.

And then there's the whole inheritance thing.

Hoo boy. Your older sister was supposed to get that. Both of you decided to split it, so you wouldn't be intimidated by the large size, but then you guys decided to leave some in the bank…

It was a very strenuous and long process. Your brain hurts thinking about it.

Luckily, your brain thinks fast, so you’ve only been standing in the doorway for like a minute, staring at your phone. You were going to do something with it, but totally forgot.

Maybe if you like, stare at your phone a while… Maybe flip through the apps, see what you can find… ‘Google Docs’, ‘Google Slides’... ‘Piano Tiles 2’, ‘Veno’, ‘Succulents; The Plant Guide to Everything That Grows’... How’d that even fit on your phone? Whatever… Uh..

You just got home from work, and… Uh… Maybe you’ll just go with your usual routine. Yeah! That sounds good.

Your socked feet make soft noises on the wooden floorboards as you quietly, quietly, almost cautiously walk across the floor. Like you’re creeping around a sleeping monster, trying to avoid waking it up… Man, that’d be a good idea for a story or something! Yeah!

With a bit of a flourish, you bring your hand to the light switch and flick it on. The lights should come on any minute now, though they--

They’re not coming on, are they?

…

They’ve burnt out, or your town is in a blackout again.

….

With a palm to your face, you rest your elbow on the kitchen counter and sit down on a cushioned bar stool. The chair is high, but you like feeling tall, despite being afraid of heights. As you sit by the counter, you slide your hand down your face to rest on your chin, propping it up. How are you going to get your work done now?

Wait. You already charged your laptop.

Stupid.

Your hand goes to smack your face again, and you roll your eyes at your own stupidity. Maybe you should start thinking things through more often before you start being overdramatic and flip out about light outages. You take off the heavy backpack on your shoulders. It lands with a quiet, ‘thump!’ on your counter. You’re so used to carrying so much weight it’s become a part of you now. You are one with the computer. You are the laptop. Wow.

Eying the worn out backpack straps, almost ready to fall off from suffering the weight you bear/wear and never seem to let up on carrying, you resolve to buy a new one next week or something. The patterns were starting to fade, anyways. Fire is getting old-- you kind of want to doodle on everything you see. Maybe your backpack could get a few sharpie touch-ups or something. Plants? … Nah.

Finally, your laptop starts up. It always takes forever-- forever being like three to five minutes or so. The sound of Windows XP ringing its theme makes you blink out of your dead stare at the object in front of you. The darkness is starting to get to you. Pfft, it’s like that one video game you used to play with your friends as a child-- what was it, ‘Don’t Starve’ or something?

‘What a tacky title,’ you snort.

A small smirk playing on your lips at the memory, you turn to look at your screen and-- GOD WHAT IS THAT BRIGHT LIGHT-- oh it’s just your brightness. It’s too high. You cranked it up to one hundred because the last time you used it was downstairs in the sunroom. Of course, there were many beams of light? Because it was a sun room? And warm? Yes? Perfect spot for sitting down and working on your laptop. And for napping. Mostly napping.

A small snuffle catches your attention. Maybe it was just the leaves rustling, but you’ve seen too many horror movies to think that. Possibilities skitter through your mind, scenarios and what-if’s screaming into your head. Well, you’re not about to turn around. Heck no. Hell to the naw.

… Boy, do you want to, though. You are terrified right now. You just remembered you left the window open. One of the windows near the back door. Someone could have been sneaking around your apartment while you were working. Your blood pressure is probably going up. With it, your heart rate. A seizing chill grips your torso, and you forget to breathe for a second when you hear the sound of something dropping onto the ground. Something heavy. A body. A body. A body. Oh my god there’s a body in your apartment and there’s never been anyone else other than you in here and what if there’s a serial murderer in here too who are you kidding ohgod ohgod thereisonethere’ssomeoneinyourhouseyou’regonnadienow--!!

Still.

Silent.

Shuffling.  
Shambling.

Steps.

Make.

Their.

Way.

To.

You.

…

You’re biting your lip so hard. It feels like it could bleed any minute now. You’re staring at the laptop. Your eyes are so wide you’re sure you’ve got that ‘deer in the headlights look’ down pat. Breathing is normal if a bit shallow. Do you think they can tell? Can they hear your breathing? Oh god, what if they’re creeping up on you right now you’re not going to be able to hear your mom ever again--

If you died, would you cry or scream first?

end chapter 1


	2. where?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> how cute.

It’s tense. You’ve been waiting for the person behind you to kill you already, your slightly shallower than usual breathing pattern threatening to turn into sobs. Will it hurt to die? If you turn around right this moment, will you be face to face with a mask or a mutilated monster? You haven't moved for a minute now, and you're starting to regret you decision. If only you would have taken the bus--

…

Something moved-- They moved behind you, you can envision the arm lifting up a knife to stab you in back of your head and oh god, that would hurt so much--

 

  
…. …. …

  
“Meow.”

You shriek loudly and fall from the seat, having whirled around and been unable to resist the dreadful curiosity. The fear had been building up so much you even scared yourself. Unfortunately, you also frightened the cat on the floor. How’d they… Oh, right. Open window. Another stray to worry about, then. Darn it, you can't help it if you really like animals. Who the heck are you, Snow White? The Asian Snow White? Oh god, that'd actually work, too, because you’re really pale from not going out a lot, and your hair is kinda short. No thanks.

(Wait, what race was Snow White anyways?)

You refuse to sit up for a few seconds. Instead, you lie down on the ground, limbs sprawled out like a sea star. You whine, a low groan coming from the back of your throat.

“Ughhhhhhh.”

The stray cat goes to pad over to your hand, and paws at it. Its paws are soft. You move to fold your arms under your chin, resting your head on your forearms. Wow, that’s a fluffy and odd colored cat. You’ve never seen a more sly kitty. The cat looks like a smirking Cheshire-- if that were a breed.

“You are very fluffy.”

You remark, offhandedly, tilting your head in the dark, the dull pain that had smashed into your body when you fell fading away. You’re gonna ache later. You decided to just lie there until the pain went away, already too tired to get back up. It seemed like too much exercise. Plus, there was a cat down here. A damn handsome cat. With the nicest fur coat you have ever seen. Whoever takes care of this cat obviously uses some really good cat fur shampoo and conditioners.

The stray had a thick, silky looking fur coat, long-haired, you presumed and seemed to be of the Persian breed, though you did have your suspicions that he was mixed. Then, there were those odd blue patches of fur, but it was none of your business how those things got there. While you do not appreciate animal abuse, this could be a genetic mutation or something. Who knows. Maybe those sci-fi novels had a bit of an effect on you. You really should probably report this to the Animal Abuse Center or something.

God, you wanted to just pet this cat all day. He was so chill. Holy shit. Right after jumping when you fell, he just went back to chill mode and like, got all up in your face like he was worried and you just loved it. ‘This is a good cat, oh my god,’ you thought. ‘Whose cat is this? Can I keep him?’

There’s no collar around his neck.

‘… Yes.’

The cat paws at my nose and you blink, those tiny paws so soft and squishy and yes.

Propping your chin up with slender hands and sharp elbows on the wooden floorboards, you idly play with the cat, any thought about stress nonexistent and purged from your mind. Stress could wait, right now was cat time. You feel something akin to adoration building up in your throat. Little tiny butterflies bounced around and you felt your muscles relaxing.

It feels like the cat has a motor in it, purring wildly. Such tiny paws. Definitely a docile cat, and most likely tamed at some point. They probably had an owner at some point.

What feels like the best time of your godforsaken life passes by. Then, you finally remember you’re in college, and there’s so much homework you need to do.

You, with a groan, get into a crouch and sit on your butt, leaning against the counter. With a mewl, the cat looks up at you with longing eyes for more pets. Look at those eyes.

Oh god, you can’t just ignore that.

With a lasting scratch behind those velveteen ears, you put a hand on the countertop and haul yourself up onto a chair. Sighing, you look longingly back down at the cat.

You blink, and suddenly he’s not there anymore.  
“Well shit.”


End file.
